


The Darkness Inside

by Tictacat



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Allison and Luther are mentioned, Angst, Ben Hargreeves is a Good Brother, Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix It, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Poor Vanya, Protective Ben Hargreeves, Season 2 Episode 9, So is Five, Spoilers for Season 2, Suicidal Thoughts, because We Ben stans are starved, but only because Reginald is mentioned, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:21:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25734244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tictacat/pseuds/Tictacat
Summary: Vanya has lived her life through a series of vignettes. Now in the cold cavern of her mind she struggles to come to terms with who she is and how to live with her new memories. Someone she thought lost helps her find her way back to life.Or, a rewrite of that scene in season 2, episode 9, from Vanya’s perspective.
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves
Comments: 5
Kudos: 80





	The Darkness Inside

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings: Mentions of suicidal thoughts
> 
> I wrote this after finishing the series because, as much as I loved it, I felt we needed a little bit more about my boy Ben :(

Vanya didn’t know where she was. Pain burst through every fibre of her body, squeezing its way through her chest and out through her throat in terrified, heaving gasps. But it wasn’t the physical pain that drew tears from her eyes and forced her into a tiny ball in the dark cavern of this empty room.

Pogo, Allison. How could Allison bare to look at her? Images rushed through her mind. Blood soaked hands, the split second after she slashed Allison’s throat before the blood came, and she prayed for the tiniest moment, that maybe she had got lucky, that she hadn’t hurt her sister.

And then the blood. Oh, the blood.

Vanya knew she was hyperventilating. The air her body desperately tried to swallow in great, fast heaves came too thin, and when it filled her lungs, her body spasmed, pushing it out in a shuddering breath before she had time to even process it was there. She needed to calm down, but then, did she really deserve to go back? She wasn’t just a danger to her family, she was a danger to the world. A bomb, nothing more than an uncontrollable machine of destruction. The others told her it wasn’t her fault, but how could that be? It was her power, her inability, weakness to control her power, that lead to their current situation.

Oh God, oh God. Vanya wrapped trembling hands around the back of her neck. It was soaked in a cold sweat, that ran through her bones in a sickening chill. She could feel her pulse, like the tiny beating heart of a mouse, racing under the thin skin of her neck.

An image of Allison’s neck flashed before her eyes, how pulses of blood flowed out of the gaping wound in her neck in time with her heart beat. The horror in her eyes. Vanya’s own dawning horror that she had just killed her sister.

“I’m sorry, oh god, I’m so sorry.”

On her next breath, her body collapsed to the ground, her head cracking against the solid stone. Pain shot through her entire body like a streak of lightening. She was pathetic. Dad was right, she should have been locked away, for ever.

“Vanya?”

The name, her name, cut through her thoughts like the soft light of a full moon beaming through jutting clouds. The voice was gentle, concerned, and as familiar as a distant memory.

When she slowly raised her eyes, Vanya realised she must already be dead.

“Do you remember me?” Memories, the thousands of images and voices swirling through her mind suddenly slowed, distilling into pictures from her childhood. Before Five went away, before the family fell apart.

Rainy Sunday afternoons, the one time they had off, spent curled in the library, giggling over Grace’s cookies. The voices in her mind separated into words, deep conversations under the starry skies of the conservatory roof. Five would make some intelligent comment about space, the atmosphere and tell them stories about the patterns and constellations woven in the sky. On her other side, the quiet presence of her shyest brother. At only nine, she remembered how his hand, fragile and cold, but already stained with blood from their first missions, had curled in her own with a fleeting hesitation.

Number six, Ben Hargreaves.

Vanya let out a little gasp as her eyes met his.

Last time they had locked eyes was moments before her siblings left for their final mission as five members. She was crouched in the stairs, a book held loosely in her gangly hands, still slightly too big for her body. The others were quickly gathering in the hall below, slipping on masks and those tight black boots Allison always complained about. 

“Number Six!” Their father’s voice came sharp and low, his disappointed tone that twisted like a knife in Vanya’s chest. She shrank against the stairs and peered behind her as a shadow flitted from behind a door.

She had heard Ben’s cries the night before. Though she never really understood the full weight of ‘the horror’, the creature that dwelled inside him like a parasite, she knew how it pained him. Only later had she understood how his power wasn’t like the others, as it wasn’t a part of him, and therefore he wasn’t in complete control. Then, all Vanya knew was that she was jealous of him. He was so powerful, so respected by the others. His shyness had built him a mysterious persona among the clamouring fans that were already probably swarming outside the front door. Vanya wished she was him. Taking out bad guys left and right. Terrifying enough to scare away the creeping fears that shocked her awake at night.

Now the shadow came into the light of the chandelier. Still hidden from the others down below, Ben, even now, the shortest among them, met her eyes, his own blown wide like a deer in the headlights.

He had his mask gripped tightly in one hand, which, as Vanya watched, began to tremble ever so slightly.

“Ben?” It came out as a whisper.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, his other hand ghosted over his stomach, the exact spot where she knew the horror would emerge later today.

“I-I don’t-”

“Number Six!” Their father appeared behind Vanya, his features cast in shadow, “hurry up.”

Ben jumped at his voice, eyes falling to the floor. His hand gripped tighter around the mask and then he had gone, slipping past Vanya, feet as silent as a ghost.

Vanya watched as her siblings finished readying themselves. The last scuffing of shoes, a couple of sharp words exchanged between Luther and Diego, and then they were gone, out the door and into the light of the day.

“I remember everything.” She pushed herself up, eyes still locked with Ben’s. He was older now, his body no longer the frail seventeen year old she had watched leave from the steps of the Umbrella Academy all those years ago. But his eyes still held the innocence of a child: open and so kind. Even in Ben’s last years, when he had increasingly locked himself away in his room, his face had always been so readable, genuine. Dad had always said his empathy would be his death. Vanya still didn’t know what happened to him on that mission, back in 2006, but she hoped of all the things Dad said, he had been wrong.

If the last few months had taught her anything, it was that empathy is no weakness.

“It’s happening again, isn’t it?” Her voice cracked, “why can’t I control my powers like the rest of you?” Her breaths began to shallow again, barely enough air slipping into her lungs before it was forced out, as if a rock was crushing down on her rib cage, “I’m a monster.”

Ben’s expression softened, and suddenly, Vanya felt like a child again. 

Before the missions started, when the training was in its early stages, that was when the seven of them had felt like normal siblings. She and Ben, Seven and Six, though the same age as the others, were treated like the youngest. Grace let them get away with a little bit more, the others looked out for them. Vanya remembered how Luther, already strong beyond his years, would carry them around the living room on his shoulders pretending to be a rocket. Klaus would brush their hair and tell them jokes when Dad got too harsh. She remembered how close she and Ben had been, looking out for each other as the designated youngest of the group. How devastated she had been when he never returned from that final mission.

“I know what it feels like to be out of control, to feel like a monster.” Ben’s eyes flicked downwards to his stomach. It was covered now, in a dark hoody and jacket, blocking out the horror from their eyes. Vanya wondered if it was still in there and had followed him, even in death.

“You know, when we used to go on missions, I would tell myself it wasn’t me who killed the men. The... the horror has a mind of its own, you know.” Vanya nodded, and something thick lodged itself in her throat, “it could tell who was a threat, and who was on our side, but it never stopped me from thinking, what would happen if it attacked one of you guys.” Ben looked away then. Vanya thought she saw something glisten in his eyes, “sometimes I think it’s a good thing I died when I did,” Vanya choked out a no, but he carried on, staring at the floor. “It was growing stronger, begging to be let out even when I wasn’t on missions. I mean, who knows. If one day...” he trailed off, his voice so soft it almost blended into the silence surrounding them.

“Ben... don’t say that.”

He smiled, his eyes creasing a little at the edges, and grasped Vanya’s hand.

“The difference between us, is that this power you have, it’s a part of you. I’ve seen how far you’ve come, I know you can control it. To have gone through what you have, locked away, lied to, betrayed... you are so strong, Vanya.” She gripped his hand back, and realised how warm it felt under her skin.

“Am... am I dead?”

“No, of course not. And, our siblings, they’re out there right now trying to save you.”

Even after everything she did to them?

“They care about you, Vanya. I care about you. We are siblings after all.”

Ben peered at her, still facing the ground and his smile bloomed into a grin.

“Though you better not remind Luther and Allison about that.”

Vanya was only able to laugh lightly in response, but her body warmed at his words. 

“I’ve missed you.” Her own words came out little more than a whisper, “I mean, you don’t understand, after you died-”

Ben quickly grasped both her hands. She knew she didn’t need to say. How close they had been, her, Five and Ben. With both of them gone after 2006, the family had completely unravelled, even more than it already had been. Klaus disappeared into his drugs, sometimes gone for days without letting them know where he was. Hargreaves didn’t care, as long as he was back for missions. Diego, Allison and Luther had never been close to Vanya anyway, and after Ben’s death it was only a matter of time before they drifted away, closer to Hargreaves, or out into the world.

Now, she and Ben sat together in the cold, dark cavern of her mind. Briefly she wondered if it was a dream, but she didn’t think her mind would be able to conjure up any image of Ben apart from that of the gaunt seventeen year old leaving for his mission one winter morning.

It was as this thought came, Vanya realised how her pulse had slowed. The images and memories screaming at her for attention had been subdued. They still fizzled, restlessly at the back of her mind, but Vanya knew, deep down, she could now get through this. She could control her power. She wasn’t alone anymore. She had Sissy, but she also had her family, out there trying to save her. That’s what Ben had said, and if she trusted anyone, it was him.

Slowly she pushed herself to her feet. Her legs were steady underneath her now, strong enough to carry the new knowledge of her past life.

Ben watched her from the ground, his hand slipping gently from her own. It was hard to place his expression, but she noticed how his narrow shoulders, dwarfed under the dark jacket he wore so often in life, slumped. Suddenly, he seemed extremely tired.

“What is it?” And then Vanya saw.

Tiny blue sparks, like cinders on a dry sheet of paper, ate away at his clothing, at him. She stared in horror as the hand she had just held began to disintegrate, drifting away in a flurry of blue.

“What’s happening to you?” 

He looked up at her, and the glistening in his eyes swelled into tears.

“I can’t come back with you.”

Two dark boots stepped into Klaus’s vision as blackness tunnelled around him. The last thing he saw was Ben’s face, pale against the frame of his hair. Of course, not a hair lay out of place, the terrifying wind holding him against the wall had no effect on the ghost. 

Typical Ben, he had thought, always has to do it perfectly.

When he woke up, Vanya was standing above them, her face twisted in grief. Ben was gone.

Diego raced off, yelling his new favourite buzz word, Kennedy. Allison rolled her eyes and left too, if only to give their brother a slap. Vanya stooped to crouch beside him.

“Ben, he...”

Klaus realised his hands had curled into fists, the same position he knotted them into when he first summoned Ben. Only seventeen, and already rotting in a cold, dark coffin.

“He’s gone. I’m sorry.”

Klaus took drugs to experience the haze, the sense of floating, escape from the real world. Now that same haze filled his mind, blocking out Vanya’s voice to a muted mumble.

His body numbly responded when she took him into her arms.

What was their last conversation? Christ, as if he could remember. Had it been good? Bad? Did he remember to say how much he valued Ben after all these years? Probably not. Somehow, Klaus thought Ben already knew. But...

Klaus released his breath when the pain built up in his chest and broke out a quiet sob, his arms gripping Vanya’s tiny body closer. How did he let Ben go? There must be a way of getting him back. He couldn’t leave him, after all this time. 

Realistically, Klaus knew he couldn’t keep Ben around forever. One day he would grow old. He would have to move on, just as the others had been forced to.

Number Four and Number Seven held each other in that blood stained hall way and wept for their lost brother.

**Author's Note:**

> :(


End file.
